


𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐃𝐀𝐃︕ 𝐙𝐄𝐊𝐄

by bxnnylucifer



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Adult Content, Adultery, Anal Play, Biting, Cheating, Cockwarming, Daddy Kink, Dark, Dumbification, F/M, Jealousy, NO UNDERAGE READER, Not Underage, Oral Sex, Power Dynamics, Power Play, Pseudo-Incest, Spit Kink, Step-Sibling Incest, Unprotected Sex, cursing, degrading, voyerism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 15:35:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30141756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bxnnylucifer/pseuds/bxnnylucifer
Relationships: Zeke Yeager/Reader, Zeke Yeager/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 76





	1. 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄, 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐘 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐃𝐀𝐃︕ 𝐙𝐄𝐊𝐄

the first time he realized he may not be alone in his impure and corrupt thoughts was a slip up. he was stretching when his shirt came up a little too high. your orange juice sat at the rim of your glass as you were drinking and your eyes happened to catch sight of the sweats skimming his v, the trail of hair, and his bottom abs— instantly opening your eyelids and locking your pupils to the exposed skin. never moving the glass, refusing to swallow in hopes of not choking, he smirked at you gawking at him. the scoffing laugh he had at how bold and outright daring you were being made his abdomen clench and tighten, only outling his stomach for a second before the cotton covered him once more.

after that, he’d be a lot more active. maybe by helping you get something off the top shelf and trap you in between himself and the counter— holding it over his head until you give in and say please— not having a clue as to what that does to him. then he will take the most daring step he’s taken by far by doing the laundry and finding your thong— and the gods know how badly he wants to keep it for himself, to wrap it around his cock as he jerks himself off to the idea of you and your bratty lips. for them to catch his cum after inhaling your scent as he suffocated his nose with them— but the embarrassing blush your cheeks give to him when he’s in your doorway, leaned against it, raising them up and off his index by the single sided strand, offering them back to you, is more than enough in worth of giving them back. dangling them at your grasp, he squeezes them in his hand before you can get them. “what’s the magic word?” he teases, looking right into your eyes as you have to say it to get your own fucking underwear back. 

it’d finally happen when you wear something that makes him actually, audibly say “oh, fuck” out loud and close his eyes before realizing he did it— whether it be lacking of care at this point or letting his pent up state get the better of him. yet, you’re the one to get close to him. he’s getting hard and not even trying to conceal it anymore. you were going to go out, saw his bulge throb, texted your friends that the plans were cancelled, set your phone down on the island, and walked up to him. you were silent in doing so. you both were, finally, for once. if there was going to be a time to do this it would be now or never— the tension thicker than ever before. you moved slow enough that he would stop you if you were overstepping. at first, putting a hand to his ribs to steady yourself when your bare knees hit the hard surface of the ground. you’re looking up at him the whole time, locking both pointer fingers through the belt loops of his jeans. 

it had been meaningless until now— that there was no going back, so it was time to at least fully commit.. that he couldn’t ask about his morale code in times like this. like that you’d see he was getting hard, that you’d finally flushed yourself against his body and grabbed him by the package, squeezing ever so slightly to feel the size of his girth— the warmth radiating through the denim telling you that he’d been like this for a minute now. that you’d lick and pull your bottom lip through your teeth and he’d look down at you with hooded eyes and ill intentions, that he’d absolutely choke you out with his cock down your throat if you don’t stop now. that it was vile you were kneeled before him as you tied your hair up in a ponytail, that his chest was feeling like it would explode if he didn’t let some of the air out in a short groan. that you were looking up at him, batting your eyelashes once or twice, and dragging your tongue from the bottom of his balls up and over his bulge, the metallic button and onto his abdomen— all while keeping eye contact. 

he’d ache out, gripping at your hair. “so dirty.” he’d comment as his a strand of precum dripped from his now uncovered and exposed head and onto the tile floor, you bending down to lick it up. “you’re fucking disgusting.” he’d berate and belittle you, but his heaving chest disagrees— god, he could’ve busted right then and there at the sight. you haven’t even touched his dick yet. you haven’t even licked it besides over the jeans. finally, you dip your face under his cock, letting the broken strand of precum be the first to hit you— a cool and sticky substance connected with the bridge of your nose when his tip followed suit— nuzzling your way up his shaft as you dragged your tongue where the softness of your nose touched, instantly having zeke moan and stiffen, grabbing onto the counter’s edge for reassurance. swirling your tongue over his head, you hollowed out your cheeks before ramming as much of him to the back of your throat as you could, pulling back fast enough that he couldn’t catch up and comprehend the last thing you did before you changed it up. three good runs you gave him, sucking back and forth before you were slurping and adding one hand to his length— magneted to your lips and gliding over the wet track you left, and the other reaching to grasp his balls. 

“fuck!” he all but screams out, tightening his eyes in sheer euphoria with his decision to pull you off of him, up onto your back and and on the granite. flipping up your skirt, he ripped your panties from your flesh hard enough there were going to be burns more than likely. with one hand he yanked on the v-neck line of your shirt, outstretching it when you heard the popping sound of the fibers breaking. your decorative bra was out, your shirt now starting underneath it, frustrated he snapped at you. 

“take it off.” he was angry almost— like he’s waited too fucking long to get cucked by a strapless bra now. he was demanding it of you, no question about it. primal and hungry, he looked down on you as your hands snaked behind your back and unhooked the clasps. he jerked the garment out of the gaping hole and threw it to the pile of growing clothes. finally, he smiled. his eyes were so pretty— glazed and glossy with lust, anticipation. cock seeping with precum, he wasn’t sure where to start first. “oh, sweetheart.” he groaned, finally taking in the full picture— your tits out and exposed, your cunt wet and open, your skirt and shirt meeting in the middle— a sign of rushing, eagerness. pulling his shirt over his arms and head, he then tossed his glasses to the surface behind him. sinking low enough, he groped your sprawled, open legs over both of his biceps in a single jerk and onto his shoulders before sniffling and spitting onto your pussy. the vulgar act made you cry out music to his ears. one long stride first, the same as you did to him, from the bottom of your hole to up and over your clit. the sudden contact made you curse in a moan. he chuckled against your inner thigh at how it wasn’t so amusing to you now that it was your turn before nipping at your skin. an intense pinch of his teeth brought pain, immediately cooled off by a flattened tongue lick and kiss like he were sealing an envelope. nose to your sensitivity, he smashed his face into you— at points, inside of you, feeling you clench around the tip of his tongue made him only pull back to take a break. he would’ve painted the counter cabinets if he didn’t pace himself carefully, so instead he dropped his head and focused on his toes. 

“who knew you could be such a slut,” he’d say, raising his gaze. “desperate for my touch.” he unhooked you from his hold to slap the inside of your thigh, earning him a yelp from your mouth. he stood tall, grabbing one of your legs to lift you up and on your side as he licked from your cunt up and to your ankle before coming back down to drag his tongue over your pretty second option— causing you to straight up scream in shock, surprise, and sensation. “so responsive.” he laughed to himself at your reaction, knowing it was new to you. “has anyone touched you here?” he asked, pushing his fingertip to your ass as if it were a button. you shook your head frantically in denial. “hm,” he hummed in praise. “maybe you’re not such a whore after all.” setting your leg down so they were hanging off the side of the tabletop, he took his cock in hand and tapped it twice to your slick. “then again, you do want your stepfather’s cock inside of you—“ he was talking outloud to himself, like he were weighing out options. “don’t you?” he asked, eyes looking up from the obscene image and for your approval. 

a weak, broken yes finally came out of your mouth— opposite energy as to where you were five minutes ago, on your knees and making him weak. 

i can’t hear you, sweetheart.” he smiled, and you knew this motherfucker thrived off of begging. 

“yes— yes i want you inside of me.” you spoke up, growing slightly impatient in his game. he only tapped his pointer to his earlobe in the sign of missing what was said, you had to do this once more. clenching a fist and slamming it to the counter, you broke. “god, yes— i think about it at night, i want you to fuck me, i touch myself to the thought of th—.” was what you managed in an almost sobbing plea. it was enough for him to interrupt your admitting as he hilted inside of you— instantly regretting it for he undermined the fucking grasp you’d have on him. both of you shrieked out in overwhelming bliss, him having to stand still and latch onto your hips in efforts of not blowing his load from the mere impact. a few seconds passed and he pulled all the way back, slowly pushing each inch back in so you both could adjust. 

“you’re fucking kidding me.” a man in defeat he was, hanging his head and shoulders, at a loss at how good it was. he knew it’d be good— younger, tighter, wetter, better— but god dammit, he did not expect this. “you’ve been hiding this from me?” — still unsure of who exactly he was talking to at this moment, it could’ve been a higher up for all he knew. he’d be ashamed to ever admit that his breathing was this erratic this early on, overpowered by this clenching life grip on his girth. anything more in this moment than the warmed fleeting pulses from you and he’d cum— oh, how he’d spill inside of you and ruin your cervix with his hot, white film. 

but zeke was a gambling man, and with slowly moving his hips again he rolled those dice. in fact, he almost preferred you stay the way you were— quiet other than the escaped moan every so often, for anything filthier it’d be over. he can’t watch the faces you make, the way your lips open in pure pleasure— he can’t focus on how your perky, perfect breasts bounce with every thrust he forces inside of you— so instead, he sees how your folds hug him as he slides in and out of you— how there’s thick, white cream covering him. but, in torture, a soft and breathy “zeke” pulls him back to you, eyes snapping to your shut ones. 

“oh, shit” he thinks, feeling you tighten in warning as you’re closing in. he’s gritting his teeth at this point, this isn’t a race he’s going to win. 

“baby, no.” he almost whimpers out, reaching up to rest a palm to your cheek— compelling you to look at him and grab onto his wrist. how quickly this turned intimate. “the other one.” he requested. 

‘what’ ran through your mind, lost for a second before you realized— no, he can’t mean that—. a sense of fear snuck up your spine in the thought of saying the wrong thing. 

“come on.” he was getting needy, bringing one leg up for your ankle to rest on his collarbone— moving the position just enough for him to rut himself into you deeper. “you can do it.” he coaxed, comfortably. “say it for me, sweetheart.” he groaned, in the last rounds now. “i want to hear you say it.” it was all it would take for him to gush inside of you. “tell me who’s fucking you.” his nails digging into your hip. 

“fuck— you are, daddy. your cock fits me perfectly.” you finally committed to after his poisonous words, adding a whine to your voice to send you both over the edge. and in a matter of moments, he pulled himself out just in time to push his erection to the floor— leaking out a puddle of cum before he stand. 


	2. 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄, 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐓𝐘 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐃𝐀𝐃︕ 𝐙𝐄𝐊𝐄

oh, how nice it’s been.. cockwarming him as he reminds you “how it feels to fuck a real man, and not just college boys”, to steal sacred kisses— ones growing more and more scarce now that your mother had returned from a usual, out of town work trip. 

what wasn’t nice was remembering how thin the walls are— how he must keep this up in order to see you. a part of being with her meant fucking her from time to time, each time hurting you more than the last. until it became too much.. the mental images and audible voices of her forced you to backtrack from what you were doing. and even though he assured you it wasn’t the same, that he couldn’t cum when he was with her— that he wishes it was you when he’s there— you had to stop him. stop this. 

and so you did.. thinking it would somehow make it easier, make it better. make it less painful to see her kiss him when you’re at the dinner table. making it unbearable for him when she asks about the neighborhood boy who came by the other day, looking for you— reiner— and how you should give him a chance. making it absolutely soul crushing when you have to agree that it’s a good idea to go on a date for the sake of throwing off any trace of a hint of where your mind, body, and heart really was. 

and for the first few days she’d left for yet another prioritized meeting week, it was doable. he kept to his room and passed by with hands to himself, small talking only when dinner was ready or the mail was checked. this was how it had to be, you reminded yourself, readying for the restaurant that reiner had picked out— spritzing your favorite perfume into your hair as you bent over and fluffed it in a swoop. all was fine, really, until you came back for your license left on your dresser. zeke was in the hallway, biting his tongue at how you looked, but groaning when he caught wind of your signature scent— the one you knew he loved. 

as much as you craved to stay and have him take you against the wall, you had to go. you had to move on. zeke listened for you to leave, waiting to indulge in his recent curiosities. it’s been weeks now since being in your room— never in the light of day, and never by himself. he knew it was an invasion of your privacy, but shrugged off the feeling of guilt now.. for it was a little too late. 

the first thing he sets sight on is your pillow— knowing how you hump and grind against it for external release, the same one he’d made you squirt onto in hopes of not making a mess on the sheets. his core would twist at the replayed scene as he reached for the cotton pillowcase. tugging on it, he’d find what you were hiding underneath it— that fucking thing. he told you to get rid of it, how you don’t need it— how he was the only one he wanted to make you cum. zeke clicked his teeth and cursed at the pink toy, but left it alone. 

his annoyance was short lived once he started to wonder how often you were using it again. oh, your darling faces and how he missed them so much. his cock twitched at the memory, forcing him to bite his lip in somewhat shame— not enough to stop what he was doing. instead, he leaned into it.. closing his eyes and desperately reaching for the images at his fingertips. a second and more intense pulse shot through his dick’s veins and down to his head, he could feel blood filling himself and he was growing by the second. it’s been so long for him. she didn’t want to hear it but fuck, it’s been since she was with him last. yanking on himself can’t produce anything but pity and he avoids contact now as much as possible. so it’s easy for him to fall into lalaland where your hair is tangled in his hands and you’re screaming about how much you loved him inside of you. he can’t help himself from palming his needing, full cock over his pants as he grips a fistful of your covers in the idea of bending you over where he stands and railing you from behind. now his blood has emptied his brain and sank into his source as he’s reaching for a pump of your bedside lotion and springing himself free and onto your patterned bedspread— milking himself and throwing his head back by being surrounded by sense of you, so deep into the illusion that he didn’t hear the front door open. 

you can hear his familiar groans before you see your door’s been left ajar. you can hear the lewd sound of his knuckle connecting with his balls before you see him standing beside your bed. with how quick his hand is moving, you understand him well enough to know that he’s close to finishing. what you don’t know is that he’s only just started and it’s taking the bare minimum to get him off. 

“zeke.” you whispered and you knew it was going to frighten him. but he doesn’t hear you, he’s leaning now, arm stretched out and hips moving with his hand as he fucks the top of your mattress— imagining it to be your tight hole. “zeke.” you speak up. 

his hand stops moving and he’s completely still. he’s finally been caught and he’s not exactly sure by who. the edge he’s just given himself— cum at the tip of his cock, waiting to spill against the silk underneath him, now retracting. he exhaled in relief, knowing it’s you— for there would be a lot more words being thrown at him if it were anyone else by now. he knows it’s not much better— what he was doing, though he’s not one to apologize so he just shoved his face into your sheets and collapses his muscles into the foam. 

joining him, you didn’t have anything to say. you weren’t necessarily surprised— knowing he wasn’t up to any good from the beginning, and it’s not like you were so innocent yourself. your body sank into the pillow top next to his, and you couldn’t help but laugh. 

“you weren’t supposed to be home.” he said into the mattress, muffled by the fabric’s thickness. “you weren’t supposed to be in here.” you instantly bat at him— retreating back to your bratty ways since he can’t punish you for it anymore. “hmm.” he hummed like he always did when something was cute or funny to him. something you always liked. he sat up on his elbow and placed his chin to his palm. “what happened?” he asked, curious as to why you weren’t with the stupid fucking reiner. 

you swallowed thickly before speaking, facing him with mirrored posture. “i didn’t want to go.” you admitted honestly. “i’d rather be here.” which was more than bait— and hook, line, and sinker if he weren’t contemplating taking it with the look in his eyes.. one you knew all too well, one that shifted from your eyes to your pout and back to your eyes for permission— but he wouldn’t be the one to enact first now, not this time. 

slowly— you stepped closer, crawled closer. his nostrils were flaring at the tease this would be if you walked away now. licking your lips to ready them, you were feeling his warmth on your skin. not a word was said. you pushed a strand of hair behind your ear as he reached for your cheek. it was violent when he kissed you, pulling away for only a moment to grab you and get more comfortable before shoving his tongue down your throat. kissing wasn’t much for zeke, but the herion-like euphoria you gave him was. 

grabbing you by your waist he pushed you down onto the bed, giddy at the chance to be here again. what a man he was for having control, dominance, patience— not now, zeke turned you to your stomach as you were reaching for a pillow to prop under yourself, the idea of how he was going to hurt you made you instantly wet. “my good girl,” he started with a compliment, but it wouldn’t last long. “oh, how i’ve missed you.” he confessed with his chest as he set you up for having your face in the bedsprings and ass in the air. the ditzy dress you wore for your date lit him on fire. shoving it over your hips, he saw the pair of panties you were wearing, too. “these are pretty.” here it comes. “did you intend on showing him these?” he lashed his hand against your cheek when you didn’t answer him. 

“no.” you squeak, deprived of your punishments, you were going to make him pry for it. a tsk was heard from his teeth at the underwhelming respond he received. “sweetheart, i think you’re forgetting something.” he warned, stripping you of your lace— only leaving them down far enough for what he needed. running the very tip of his tongue from the start of your slit to over your puckered hole sent you into your first cry of moans— still denying him the satisfaction. slick enough, he hurried to his knees before sinking himself into you. 

a fucking idiot, he was. forgetting how tight you are— especially in this position. he smiles to himself, thankful you can’t see his face from here, as he feels relief wash over him— finally, he’s where he feels best. it takes him no time to snap his hips into you at a unrelenting and unforgiving pace— anger, jealousy, desperation all present in his thrusts. “now tell me what’s so great about this guy.” he demands. he’s not playing around either; he really wants you to answer him. he’s having a cock size competition with this man, not even have ever met reiner, but if he’s worth getting dressed up for then he must know. “nothing, i stayed here with you.” you bantered as much as you could, words suppressed by how he was pounding the syllables out of you. 

“do you think he could have fucked you like i do?” he asks before cutting himself off with another question. “sweetheart, don’t tell me it’s him you’re touching yourself to at night.” he whined almost— drilling mercilessly. “no!” you shouted, and it still wasn’t enough of the right answer. 

zeke stopped only to lean over your back so you could hear him clearly. “look at me.” he ordered. “if i have to tell you again, i won’t let you cum— do you hear me talking to you?” he had a hint of degrading in his tone, as if you were stupid for not giving him the proper title. he wasn’t going to move until you submitted to him. the phrase sat on your lips, teetering to be said— screamed even, but it was diving all the way back in if you said it now, it was a point of no return. your shoulders caved as you said it. “no, daddy.” you gambled by sliding yourself back and forth on him. “i don’t think he could have fucked me like you do.” he grinned at the compliance, obedience only you could give him. “we wouldn’t have to invite him over to show him how well you take my cock, now would we?” what a fucking smug bastard. 


End file.
